L.A. Blues III (12 page)

I looked down at my calendar. Last night, Mayhem had gotten back safely from Rio after three months of being out of the country. I didn't even have the heart to ask him what happened. I knew from my experience that, whatever it was, it was one of those things where you'd never be the same after going through it. It was a descent into hell, into the heart of darkness, when you dealt with the cartels in Rio.

I didn't see Mayhem, but I sensed his sadness when we talked over the phone. He said he couldn't find Appolonia. No one would tell him anything and he didn't know if she was dead or alive. I knew that would be some Helen of Troy mess going on if he did find out she was with Diablo aka Escobar.

The next morning, I called Detective Hamilton. “We were able to pick up Agent Stamper at LAX,” he said. “Stamper was trying to get out the country. Had his passport and everything. You need to go down to the US Department of Justice to get into a safe house before the trial.”

“How long will I have to stay there?”

“I don't know. We'll try to expedite the trial as soon as possible but you know how these things can be.”

“Okay.” I hung up, feeling totally numb. I knew with lawyers requesting continuances, this thing could go on for a couple of years. What was I going to do?

The US Department of Justice was located downtown on Spring Street and that wasn't far from Silver Lake. I looked it up on the Internet. This was where the witness protection program was housed.

As Chica drove me on the freeway, I was so upset I didn't know what to do. Would I have to change my identity? Would I lose touch with my family, now that I was trying to put my family back together?

I called Shirley from my iPhone. “Shirley, I might have to go underground for a while. Tell everyone I love them.”

Shirley sounded upset. “What's going on? I'm really worried about you with this baby. You should be resting while you're pregnant. Your pregnancy is already high risk because of the accident. It's also higher risk at thirty-five. I hope you didn't take on another dangerous case.”

“No. This is something that is tied to the last big case, but I'll be fine. The baby is fine. It's kicking and moving all the time.” I tried to sound brave, but I was anything but.

Next, I called Venita. I told her that I'd be going underground and to keep Ben indefinitely. “Can you tell Rachel that I'm underground on a big case, but I'll be in touch with her as soon as I get straight? Tell her I won't be calling her for a while.”

“Z, I'm really concerned about you. Are you and the baby going to be all right?”

“Just pray for us, Venita,” I said, hanging up. I didn't need any more words to upset me.

As we pulled off the freeway at Sixth Street to ride into the heart of downtown, I received a call from Mayhem. I had my Bluetooth on so Chica couldn't hear the conversation. “Sis, what's this about the Brazilian cartel done green-lighted yo' ass?”

“What?” I screamed so loudly, Chica almost ran into the car in front of us. She hit the brakes heavily, just in time.

“What's the matter,
mija
?” Chica asked frantically.

I reached out and touched her. “I'm fine.” Then I turned back to my conversation. “When did you find this out? Who told you this?”

“Your boy F-Lock told me. That's the scuttlebutt on the street. I didn't hear nothing about it while I was in Rio. But I did hear you killed four men down there. Baby sis, why didn't you tell me all this shit? Girl, you ain't no joke, is you?” His words were laced with admiration and amazement.

I couldn't even answer Mayhem's remarks.

Mayhem continued, “I have someplace you can hide out while I try to smoke this fool. They call him ‘the Executioner.' They say he's one of the best international hit men in the world.”

“No, I'm good,” I said calmly, but my heart was beating so fast, I thought I would pass out. I did my deep breathing from my tae kwon do teacher and felt myself getting centered.

Lord, what kind of mess had I gotten myself into? Now I must've been crazy. Facing off with the cartel like that. Now they were retaliating. Well, what did I expect? What had I been thinking? But looking back, I was trapped in a corner and it was down to survival of the fittest. And once again, it all came down to dealing with Mayhem. I could strangle him if he were standing near me.

But that was no longer me. That was the me I was before I got pregnant. Now I had a baby to think about. As if the baby heard me, I felt a strong kick.

I stayed at the Department of Justice all day, with only a Subway sandwich and a 7 Up, which they bought for me late in the afternoon. Then, at night, two federal marshals whisked me into a van with blacked-out windows. We drove for about an hour outside the city. I thought we were on the outskirts of L.A. County close to Riverside County.

I was too done in to even worry about the time. I was trying to think of my next move. I planned that I would stay in the program until I had my baby, then I'd move on—where, I didn't know.

“You'll stay here until we get you a more permanent place to stay,” the marshal said to me. That was the only information I had.

They took me to a small motel somewhere out in the boonies. The place was called the Starlight Motel, but letters were missing in the marquee. As soon as they opened the door, the place screamed out “second class.” The auburn shag carpet on the floor was worn, dirty, and shabby looking. Two white officers were supposed to be guarding me. Both looked unshaven and disheveled. They were not dressed in uniform. They smelled funky, as if they hadn't bathed in days.

“Who are you?”

“That's none of your business,” one of the men snapped.

“No, are you the US marshals or the FBI?”

“Don't worry about that. Just know we can keep you safe. I got my friend here.”

He touched his .357 Magnum. I didn't feel reassured, seeing as he had liver spots on his hands and hair growing out both ears and his nose. The other man wasn't much more fit, with his rotund belly and balding head, as he touched his Smith & Wesson.

“Do you want Chinese food?” the first man offered.

“No, I'm going to bed.” I nodded and went to my room.

From my bedroom, I listened to them play bid whist, pinochle, and Monopoly. I was trying to keep my eyes open because I didn't feel comfortable.

“You want some pizza?” one of the guards asked.

I was so sleepy, I said no. I must have dozed off because a while later, I heard a loud banging sound on the door.

“Who is it?” one of the guards called out.

“Pizza delivery man,” a voice called back.

I heard the door open, and a sudden barrage of bullets rang out. I jackknifed up in the bed, frightened. I could hear voices shouting, “Where is she?”

“What are you talking about?” I heard more shots. Through the cracked door I could see blood and gun smoke.

Right away, I knew what time it was. The safe house wasn't safe. I was about to get got. I slipped on my shoes, grabbed my purse, which had my Glock in it, and climbed out the window. I broke into a sprint, then into a fast run. I held my stomach underneath the ridge above my pubic hair. It was damp and cool outside. I felt tall weeds slapping at my legs. I didn't have a coat. I'd left my laptop, my new iPad, and my bag of clothes. I had nothing. Nothing but my will to survive.

I finally came to the bottom of a hill, and found a parking lot nestled in a valley filled with a lot of old-fashioned aluminum-siding trailers. I found one that was empty, a rusted-out trailer down the road but hidden by a willow tree, and I hid there. I was so afraid, I didn't worry about how dank and damp the place felt. I just wanted to go for shelter. I covered myself with old newspaper.

 

I woke up the next morning not quite sure where I was. I checked around. I touched my stomach and my baby started moving. My stomach growled so loudly, I jumped with a start. I guess the baby and I were both hungry. The sun had come up in the east early. It felt like it was going to be a scorcher. I put my hands over my eyes to block the sun glare, but I could see mountains in the distance off to the North of me. I found my iPhone in my purse and I was grateful. I had nothing else. I only had $20 on me. My driver's license, all my credit cards and debit cards had been taken and I was supposed to be given a new identity, if necessary, by the time the trial took place.

I decided to get moving. I stayed off the road, but close enough to follow the freeway. I was near the Interstate 60. Finally I found an ARCO gas station. I went inside and used the bathroom, then washed up the best I could with paper towel and cold water.

“Where are we?” I asked the store clerk when I came out the bathroom.

“We're in Rialto.”

With only $20 to my name, I bought a bottle of water, a boiled egg, an orange, a banana and apple, plus a bagel. After I wolfed down the nourishment, I took my prenatal vitamins.

Now that I had fed myself and my baby, I could think clearly. I didn't know whom I could trust. I could only imagine what had happened to my guards. Obviously, there was a mole who had leaked my whereabouts. Was there any safe place for me?

Who could I call, without endangering my family?

Then I had a thought. I put in a call.

Reverend Edgar Broussard pulled up in his church van in front of the ARCO. I had been hiding in the bathroom off and on.

“Thank you for coming,” I said as I climbed into the van. I scooted down in the van to hide myself, just in case he was being followed.

“Would you like to come back to my house?”

“No.”

“What are you going to do?” He looked down, and noticed I was shivering, teeth chattering. “You don't have a coat.”

“I know.”

“Here, take my jacket.”

Reverend Edgar reached over and slipped his jacket around me. “You're pregnant!” He sounded shocked. That's when I remembered I'd never told him about my pregnancy. “What is going on, Zipporah?”

“If I tell you, a lot of this information could cost you your life. Are you sure you want to know?”

“Please tell me. I can't help you if I don't know what I'm up against.”

I let out a deep breath. “Okay. I have to hide out. I was supposed to be going into the witness protection program so I could testify against a corrupt special FBI agent, but the guards were killed at the safe house and I had to escape with my life. Before I left L.A., I found out a hit from Brazil has been put out on my life.”

“What?” Reverend Edgar sounded shocked. “How did that happen?”

“I went to Brazil on a case a few months ago, and let's just say I made some enemies there.”

Reverend Edgar let out a low whistle. “Okay, Zipporah, you're definitely not an ordinary woman.” He shook his head in disbelief. Absently, he ran his hands over his bald head. “I'll tell you what I'll do. I have a cabin up in Big Bear near Seven Oaks that belongs to my family. It's a kind of isolated area. None of my family goes there in the winter so you can be safe. I'll get you a coat and some clothes to make it with. We've also got to buy you some food. There are plenty of blankets at the cabin. I'll come check on you every few days. What are you going to do when it's time to deliver?”

“Well, I've got time. I'll move close to town, or go to a hospital when it gets near my due date.”

“I'd like you to take this Bible. You're definitely going to need God's help.”

 

Reverend Edgar stopped and bought me some warm maternity clothes and a wool coat at a general store, which sold everything. We wound up with a cart with what looked like a month's supply of groceries. He made sure I had plenty of vegetables and fruit when I told him I wasn't a big meat eater. He also picked up a blender for me to make a green drink from spinach, chards, ginger root, and kale. I noticed my blood count had gone up since I'd gotten on the green drink. Once we arrived at the cabin, I was pleasantly surprised at how nice and roomy the place was. The cabin was built from dark oak wood with high ceiling beams. A stone-front fireplace with a rocking chair in front of it gave the room a cozy focus.

There were two bedrooms on one floor and one large bedroom in the loft area. The Reverend opened the windows and aired the place out. He showed me the room heaters, which, once they got going, sent a warmth throughout the cabin. He went outside and put a few fresh logs in the fireplace.

The first thing I did was take a long, hot shower. When I came out the shower, wringing out my hair, which was now shoulder-length, I noticed Reverend Edgar staring at me.

I gave him a strange look. “What's the matter?”

He shook his head. “Your hair is beautiful. It has highlights like a raven's wing.”

I shrugged. “Thanks.”

I felt a little embarrassed, so I pulled my hair back into a ponytail. I'd always had what some Black people called “good hair.” My hair had a loose curl in it, and was wavy when it was wet. I didn't wear a press when I was a child. As an adult, I had worn a press or even a perm to try it, but now I was going back to the natural look. Although my hair could look straight with a gel on it, I was glad that the natural hair styles were becoming popular again. I was beginning to think about locking my hair and wearing dreads.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked.

“Well, I hate to be a burden, but I'm going to need to go to an ob-gyn doctor next week.”

“We'll find one in a small town near here.”

I nodded. As I sat in the rocking chair, I enjoyed the crackling of the logs in the fireplace. For the moment, I was able to put my fears aside.

Meanwhile, Reverend Edgar cooked a nice meal of spaghetti, with dried tomatoes, garlic bread, warm olive oil, and Caesar salad. After he blessed the food, I let out a sigh of satisfaction. It felt so good to be over the nausea now. Food had taken on a special flavor. I'd never known it to taste so good.

“This is delicious,” I said, twirling the pasta around my fork. I dipped the garlic bread into the olive oil. “I'm starving.”

“Glad you like it.”

“I'm impressed.”

“Why?”

“I'm surprised that as a reverend you can cook so well.”

“We have to cook at the station during our tour and we take turns. I work forty-eight-hour shifts; then I have four or five days off. I'll be able to come and check on you on my off days, and around my church duties. Are you sure you will be okay?”

“I'll be fine. This will give me time to plan my next move.”

“Well, whatever it is, pray about it, and ask for God's guidance.”

Generally, I mocked the reverend's talk about God, but now I felt so helpless, so vulnerable, I really knew I had to leave my life in God's hands.

That night, before Reverend left, I asked him about the story of David. “Do you think it was true?”

“What do you mean?”

“That David was able to kill a giant with five stones.”

“After David knocked him out with the stones, he took Goliath's sword out of its sheath and stabbed the giant. He also beheaded him once he got him down.” He turned away, picked up the Bible, and leafed through it. “Here, you can read the account in the Bible at 1 Samuel 17:40-51.”

He opened the Bible and I read it out loud. I couldn't even believe it myself that I was sitting here with a minister, reading from the Bible. “Do you think this was true?”

“Yes, it was a true story. The message is that with God's help, you can fight an army. You know sometimes God sends angels to fight holy wars.”

“Well, miracles always happen,” I admitted. “I guess it was a miracle how the woman used her car and blocked the other cars when I was hit.”

“What woman?” Reverend Edgar looked puzzled.

“The one who kept talking me though while I was trapped in my car. She even called 911. Didn't you see her?”

“No, I didn't see her.”

“But she's the one who explained to you what happened.”

“I didn't see any woman.”

Now it was my turn to be perplexed. “Are you sure?”

“Sure about what?”

A chill sent goose bumps up my arms. “Are you sure you didn't see a woman?”

“No. What did she look like?”

I thought about the scripture about angels coming forth when we didn't even know it. Shirley always said we had guardian angels. I shook that eerie feeling away. “Well, she was a Black woman. She had a calm, soothing voice. Oh, well. I hope I can find her to thank her one day.”

I thought of my experience in Rio. I still didn't understand what gave me the strength to do what I did. I felt it was related to the ritual from the Santeria. But, I guessed that was a mystery I would never solve.